Confessions of an accidental bigmouth
By Cakes McCain on December 03, 2011
The art of pondering thy self while eating cake.
In case you're all wondering, 'Cakes McCain' isn't my real name. (Duh! No! Really?!) I have no idea how exactly, or when I ever came up with it other than the fact the Canadian company 'McCain' that makes french fries, also makes these frozen cakes that I have loved to eat ever since I was a kid. Until my former friend Leanne freaked out on me and found the remants of one in her fridge after I had been house sitting, and ruined it all by saying all frozen cakes were unhealthy and made with anti-freeze. (all LIES I tell you!) Jerk. Regardless... that's the story.
So why do I write under another name instead of my real name? First of all, it's a mental thing that makes little sense. I can assure you all the lunacy that happens to me is totally real, but writing under a pseudonym is almost like a protective shield/alter ego where I can somehow distance myself and cower in fear behind it in the process (again, if that makes any sense).
Secondly, in one word: 'Ex-boyfriends.' This paranoia stems from the fact any member of '-Insert real name here-'s Ex-boyfriend Peanut Gallery' could get curious and easily look me up and read about my neurotic tendencies, judge me to a pulp, and above all - check for their own mentions and rummage through my past and present 'sex files.' Why would anyone care? Because some people happen to have far too much times on their hands, or have severe mental problems. (As did my 'Stalker-ex,' only he had hacked my password when I was originally on Blogger.com).
But what really disturbed me was how easy it was to find my real name associated with my blog via Google. (Don't all rush out and test this, will ya.)
Why am I bringing all this up? My paranoia started with an email I got yesterday from The Englishman, inquiring for the second time about my book (as I had responded 4 days later to his original email containing Birthday Wishes, and his inquiry about how the book was going.)
"Nice to see that the book is almost finished, is it mainly your observations or is it also a self-critical look at your time in Italy?"
Well let's see... it's fairly well rounded, and essentially it's about how I don't fit in here, the odd presence of non-standard square toilet seats I find throughout Italy, gross materialism of the Italian culture and the phenomenon of Italian women's penchant for being shot with the rhinestone gun, the MacDaddy douchbags that feed me a load of crap while trying to tongue-rape me in their crappy Fiats then a later date - masturbate near my dining table, narcissitic ex-boyfriends who rake me over the coals over the last banana or dog germs, and simply whomever I am currently worshiping in wide-eyed admiration and/or plan to sleep with next. (Of course I didn't say that, although I felt like it,)
It was surprising as he never asked, or seem to be even remotely interested in my writing while we were together. Unless of course he is concerned that HE is in it. HA! I'm sure I'd have some splainin' to do if it ever gets published, but by then (hopefully) I will be long gone and would have changed my phone number, and left no forwarding address and will be coveted by the 'writer's witness protection program.' But really: What of it? It's not like I used his real name. (Although I did call him a frozen cod among other things.)
But I have a big mouth, and I also told someone I recently met online that I have a manuscript and that I write a blog, and now I wish I hadn't because I might really like this one. What I didn't realise was that ANY new guy I happened to casually mention my blog to (or NOT), and whom I was writing to from my main email address (that displays my real name) or anyone that knows my real name for that matter, could Google me and find the account I have on a women writers' forum, then that would subsequently lead them straight to my blog, and all it's archives. Whether men actually think in this diabolical fashion is beyone me, all I know is that I do. When I meet someone new I am the first to launch a massive online 'man hunt' investigation via Goolge. So in this case, I decided to somewhat 'come clean' after he (let's call him Toscano) joked about my book being already finished - "being out of danger," and the question of sending him the blog's link:
"There are things it contains that would do no service to the people it mentions (if they read it), or certain others to know details of my past. For example - would you really want to read/know about what happened between me and my ex-boyfriends when it was good, and when it was really bad? Probably not. Sometimes too much information, is really not good. If there is anything you want to know you can ask me - I'm sickly moral, can't lie, and I am terrified of the karma police. (Anyways my exes were jerks, hahaha!)"
So if get busted? It's my own fault... It will be another evening alone in my own company, sitting on my bed under a toasty blanket, my pc keeping my lower extremities warm in a freezing apartment...
But then there's always cake.
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